


Reach to Run

by Elleth



Category: Original Work, Pistols at Dawn - Seinabo Sey (Song)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/F, Femslash, Morally Ambiguous Character, Religious Conflict, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth
Summary: I was the emperor and you owned the sunInvincible, I can't believe what we've doneSurely we must be more than love on the runIf anyone had spoken to them of their future before the Choice, Inziri and Taïri would never have believed where life would take them.





	Reach to Run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiraly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/gifts).



> Kiraly, your letter had a lot of beautiful ideas. I'd planned to stick by them more closely, but this story eventually grew a mind of its own, and I hope you'll still manage to enjoy it. Have fun reading!

~*~

_Itij arose when humanity threatened to end itself._

_Two thousand years ago, she created what came to be called the Cradle, a place where mankind could recover, unlearn its mistakes, and live in peace from the storms and calamities that their own greed had wrought upon the world. But Itij, for all her power, grew old, and upon the death of her human body she sought among those in the Cradle that offered themselves for a new host, finding a woman now only remembered as Mije, to ring in a new time. So it has been since, and through many changes, the succession of Itij from one host to the other remained._

_Itij, it is said, meant Sun, and her hosts - her Keepers - are called Zirij, Light, and they clothe themselves in red, for the colour of the sun shining through human hands. They may know what Itij is and whence her powers originate. Many realms outside the Cradle speculated - that she was human and desperation gave her her this strength, that she came from within this world to its defense, or from without this world, a goddess, a parasite, perhaps even a child of the daystar itself, as her name suggests. It is a sacred secret, and none ever shared it, but what is known is that even Itij herself is not infallible or omniscient._

_In time, the Cradle turned into the Realm of Itij, and the Choice of Itij came to pass from mother to her truest daughter. It was thought good while the dynasty of the Zirij kept the realm prosperous and ruled as justly as they were able, until, once again human greed became their undoing. Itij became weakened as her power fanned out from one into many under the hands of the Zirij of the time whose name was erased from the annals and referred to only as the Abolished in after-times. Her power was misused in crime and terror upon the nations outside her realm, and Itij became so grieved that she declared she would not stand nor stay for what her chosen people had become._

_Itij threatened to leave, and thus to surrender her realm and people to the teeth of time. Without her, clouds would gather and plagues would reign, and deserts encroach, and her people disperse into the winds, mourning their former glory when they were a light and beacon to the world, rather than a fire upon it._

_But instead, defenders of the old ways mounted a rebellion. The Zirij and her adherents were put to death, although their children were spared, and peace was made with the outside realms. Slaves were let free, and wars were ended, and trees replanted._

_In the Realm of Itij a new rule was established: The Dynastic Era ended and Itij would choose a new Zirij as it had been for time out of mind before, but she would no longer hold the power over the realm. Instead, an Emperor was chosen in consultation of Itij and the Zirij, who could in times of trial share in the strength and wisdom of Itij. In return, she would let herself be slain when she had taken her fill of Itij, so that the power would return to its due source, and even be magnified, for the Emperor's own remaining lifespan would swell that of Itij. Often, it meant that the Emperor and the Zirij grew close, companions in deep friendship or love, and often in such cases the Emperor's sacrifice would also mean the death of the Zirij out of grief, for it is the Zirij who guides the blade that claims the Emperor's life._

_It was thought good by most, except those few sad malcontents who feared the change and hung on to the old order or wanted the unjust rule, as they claimed it was, abolished entirely, and so has remained even through attempts to overthrow the order, although none ever succeeded, and the by and large the Realm lived in greater peace than others. May true peace come again, and may it remain so._

_Sun's Light Upon Us._

_Zihirju, Historian of Itij  
Year of the Sacrifice 893_

~ * ~

"Your mother," Inziri whispered as steps approached over the stone mosaic tiles into the inner courtyard. "Quick, hide your hands before -"

"'s Light, Taïri! Gilding your nails! If you think that will make Itij notice you out of all of them… if there even is a Choice - I want you nowhere near the ceremony! This ends tonight! Nor you, Inziri, even if your mother wants for you to be there. You have both heard the rumors!" 

" - she sees," Inziri finished under her breath during Mije's tirade, and when she had finished, said in a conciliatory tone to her friend's mother, "I figure that as long as I am not intending to offer myself I have nothing to fear from the rumors, even if Taïri means to. As long as she's not chosen..."

Taïri sighed. "Yes I do intend to! And Mimj, I promise that none will dare Itij herself, not when she herself is discarnate tonight and it would make no sense to even try. You cannot by law keep me from attending the Choice, or I _will_ take it to the Faceless. My nails just need to dry, and we will go. Besides," Standing in the doorway to the house with her arms crossed, Mije made an imposing figure from where Taïri sat cross-legged on the floor, and she couldn't help snapping a little as she was forced to look up, "it just looks nice. Even if it won't help any, it's no longer sacrilege any more than wearing red, just because it's the Zirij's symbol. It's beautiful. Mimj, please." 

When Mije departed with a heavy sigh and a shake of her head, Taïri turned back to her friend, sitting on the pillow next to her, gesturing with her newly-gilded fingers. "At least she's not going to lock us in, like last time. Inziri, could you scratch my nose? I… can't. It itches."

"It always itches somewhere when you can't scratch." Both girls giggled as the vestiges of their nervousness faded, and Taïri tilted her head at her friend, who dutifully found the right spot. 

"Much better, thank you." Taïri pecked a quick kiss on Inziri's cheek. 

"So, do you think I stand a chance if we actually go there? It can't help that I'm descended from the Abolished," Taïri asked. "Mimj is - maybe she is crass in how she says it, but she's right - why should Itij notice me? Think of the stories, Jiëni Who Flew… I don't know if I could do that, but maybe we could expand our reach a little further. The coast can't be the end, not now that we know there's land north of the seas. I want to see that! It's going to be the next great thing, or Bireji would not die today."

"I don't know. There's only one Itij, and so many offers. If she chooses you, it'll be for a reason. I just don't know why you want this at all, it just seems so… I don't know." Inziri ran her fingers over the back of Taïri's hand, stopping short of her gilded nails as if burned. 

"I'd hate to give you up. We can still go and be explorers if the Choice passes you by; my mother would be happy to take you into our caravan, and you'd be out of here without Mije looming over everything. I'm just saying, there probably are better candidates. There always are." 

"Probably." Taïri carefully poked at her nails and finding them dry enough, replaced the leftover gold leaf into its box, and snapped it shut. "But it would be great. Mimj would be devastated, you're so lucky that yours even named you in hope, but… it could be great." 

"You're lucky that Mije cares so little. Fewer expectations for an office you probably won't get. At least my mother can't force me to offer myself for all she wants it." 

"I still think we should trade, we would match each other's mothers better than our own," Taïri rose and tugged the fluttery red silk of her loose shirt into place, while Inziri moved to lace up her back where it'd come loose. She couldn't help running her fingers in between the strings, over Taïri's beautiful skin, and hoped Taïri's answering shiver was more than just an involuntary reaction. 

Unkind as she knew it was, Inziri hoped that Mije's words would come true - either that there would be no Choice, or that the Choice would pass by Taïri. One thing she was certain of, she was not ready to lose her. She knew - of course she knew - that the Zirij might take lovers other than the Emperor if that was her will - but it made nothing better, not when she didn't even know whether Taïri felt as much for her as Inziri wanted her to feel, or whether Inziri wanted her if she had to share her.

~*~

It was cool in the shade between the white clay houses and under the canvas marquees of the central market; the gold ornaments - suns over a stylised cradle, the bisected circle that meant the realm and the river, birds and linked hands - reflected evening sunlight that found its way into the shadow, as it always would. Inziri remembered the first time her father had come into Itij and remarked on the quality of light there, flowing like a warm liquid in the amber colour of pine honey from the woods surrounding the city.

It seemed at least that few people cared about the rumors, much like Inziri herself. The lively roads ran abandoned as people crowded into open places where the Far-Seers would project the spectacle, and solemn discussions were held, as befitted now that the death of one - or possibly two - women was imminent. The time for bets and clamouring had all passed a month ago, when Emperor Bireji announced her fate.

Inziri felt a lump grow in her throat at the thought. She had seen the Emperor once, on her parade into the city. Bireji was a small, timid woman, old to be chosen for the office and only lasting six years, and many considered her weak to draw as much from Itij as she had done, even though her bond with the Zirij was one of friendship, not one of the famed romances who seemingly could not drink their fill from their beloved until the end surprised them. But Bireji was not someone with many deeds to her name and had never even gone with the explorers that had found the land in the north in her name. But she had only ever had the good of the realm and the world in mind, and she had touched Inziri on the forehead in that parade, and Inziri had liked her. 

As she and Taïri walked along the river to the edge of the city, where the palace and the great open courtyard nestled into a hillside, a gentle breeze ruffled the surface of the water and the elaborate hairdo threaded with red strings into Taïri's black halo of curls that marked her as open for the Choice. They'd been quiet so far, making their way quickly - or rather, Taïri had been, Inziri merely followed suit, holding her hand but trailing a step behind. She thought once, just briefly, about pushing Taïri off the promenade, into the water, just to send her home instead of attending the ceremony. Mije would thank her, perhaps even cover for her, but when she'd made that step closer, she instead found her arms wrapping around Taïri from behind.

They both halted.

"If you are chosen… I just want you to know that I will miss you. As far as the sky is wide." 

Taïri paused and turned to her in her loose hold, and a light started up in her eyes, as if she understood, and she leaned her forehead against Inziri's. Her eyes closed in expectation. 

"You won't have to. Not for long. I promise."

But she freed herself far too quickly, reached again for Inziri's hand, and pulled her along at a run. "But now we can't be long!"

~*~

The Faceless stood in attendance down the stairs in case the Zirij failed her task, or there was any truth to the rumors, They had their rifles shouldered and their gaze on the crowd, though the hoods of black hid their faces, save for the glint of an eye here or there.

Bireji stood tall at the top of the stone steps to the palace gate, as tall as she could make herself; the red of her long cloak's train fluttered in a gust of wind like blood running down the stairs. Opposite her, with tears smudging golden over her dark skin from the sun-paint on her eyes, the Zirij stood, holding a long, thin knife. Even against the sunset she looked ready to burst light from her skin, Inziri thought with a flutter in her stomach, and no doubt Taïri, with her eager, upturned face saw it also. 

No one from Itij would need either a history book or a romance to know what it meant, but Inziri heard a murmur in the Talbesi language somewhere near, with the clip and lilt that marked a native speaker from the realm west of Itij much as Inziri's father spoke it, and then the answer in a traders' guard accent, much like her mother's and her own. "It means that there will be a Choice. The Zirij will not live, either." 

"A little barbaric, isn't it," came the reply. Inziri couldn't see the man's face behind the customary veil they wore to keep their skin fair to mark their rank, but could have sworn that he sounded more delighted at the supposed barbarism than he ought if he were truly as opposed as he claimed. Probably, as many visitors from outside Itij on a Choice day, he hoped to see blood, but he would not be so lucky, for a given value of luck. It was, at least, quick and clean. 

The Emperor and the Zirij already had said their farewells in private, as custom and dignity demanded. All that remained - 

\- was light that ran along the blade at the moment of sunset, as Bireji stepped forward onto it. 

At the same time, the Zirij slid it home into Bireji's heart, and she fell forward into the Zirij's arms, a thin fountain of golden light emerging from her open mouth. The Zirij lasted only a moment longer before she herself breathed out a much greater glow in a long wail, that began to grow even further until they were only shadowy figures within a blinding sphere of light that Inziri feared must leave her blind if she did not turn her eyes away. Her face ached with the heat of it. All around them the darkness seemed to grow, the shadows to lengthen. 

The first words of the Lament began to rise from the crowd. Inziri opened her mouth to join the many voices of the chorus and the unseen beat of drums, and tasted salt tears on her lips - tears and sweat mingled. Above them, the golden glow began to waver, shifting into the shape of a sun-bright woman with ashes at her feet who looked out over the crowd. 

Then, the sky itself seemed to burst in thunder, and Itij's light was eclipsed by a cloud of smoke and dust rolling from the center of the explosion.

Mije had been right. Mije… _Taïri_ … 

In the gathering dark and the ache, when Inziri felt for Taïri's fingers and wrapped hers tight around the unresponsive digits, gilded fingernails and all, a light descended, growing through the choking smoke, a woman's delicate foot outlined in light stepping toward them, urgency and fear flickering in the movement.

 _No_ , she thought. _No. I am not open for the Choice. Pass me by._

Her strength failed before she could be certain that Itij had heard her.

~*~

Hands. A soft surface, a touch she would know in death and beyond. A question, in Taïri's beloved voice, from a great distance, before darkness came to devour her again, licking at the edge of her mind. "Do you want to live?"

Fear decided her response.

~*~

Cool water - no, a wet cloth - on her forehead, soothing the pain, but everything still ached, her head and arm most of all.

"Sun's Rising Light, Inziri," said Taïri's voice, exhausted and close to tears. "Finally. It's been five days, and you wouldn't wake... " 

Something - Inziri could not say what - seemed wrong. She remembered the blast, and the darkness rolling down on them, knocking her off her feet, but she could make no sense of it, nor of the echo of the words that came from a high, vaulted ceiling overhead, gilded in sun symbols to her opening eyes. 

Something was not right. 

Taïri - Taïri had been… she had died, hadn't she? Hadn't they both? "What -" Inziri managed, lifting a hand to remove the wet cloth Taïri had laid on her forehead. Her arm was wrapped in bandages of red silk, so light and transparent that she barely felt it. "What happened? Taïri, what did you do?!"

Taïri helped her into a sitting position against the back rest of the bed, and something golden flashed briefly in her eyes, and a pulse of momentary light under the dark of her skin. "I saved your life - Itij and I did, although she is still weak and recovering from the explosion that almost ended her. I could not lose you. I couldn't. How would I bear being without you? Emperor." She bowed her head. "I saved you."

Everything became clear then. Or - everything that mattered that moment. How she had rejected Itij after the blast, Taïri's question. How she had been desperately afraid. 

How she had answered. 

_Yes, for any price._

"Zirij," Inziri said tonelessly, the most perfunctory greeting. "What did you _do_."

~*~

_Although Taïri had meant well, and had acted to save Inziri's life when, in the confusion of the aftermath of the blast Itij sought the most eager of hosts still alive in the crowd and asked admittance, Inziri was not glad to be designated Emperor._

_She is now held a wise choice, for instead of putting to death those few that were held responsible for the blast (and although, as shall be seen, the fear that not all of them had been discovered, was not unfounded, and misgivings lingered), Emperor Inziri exiled them, before surrendering herself to her rule for well over a decade, long in her capacity. But she and Taïri, although lovers worthy of a Great Song to commemorate them alongside Linje and Jejin and the other romances of our realm, were never again friends. Inziri bore a misgiving in her soul to the end of her reign, and although they shared heart, bed and body, and were miserable when the other was far, twice Inziri could not bear to pay any more of the price that Zirij Taïri had asked of her for her life._

_Twice Inziri sought to kill her, and twice her hand faltered at the last, and twice Taïri forgave her._

_Together they travelled to the land to the west, Talbes, where the Emperor's father plied his trade and renewed bonds between the realms, and they travelled to the lands in the north across the sea as Taïri had always wished to do. There they found only ruins buried in the dust of centuries, and a strange, pale people who spoke no languages we know, and they distrusted her, and Inziri refused to use Itij to speak with them, for although she had drawn from Itij only with care and reluctance, her allotted fill was drawing to a close._

_It is said that aboard the ship that took them back across the sea to the south and along the river to Itij, they lay together in love for the last time._

_From "The Forest Fire", the Tale of Taïri and Inziri._

~*~

"You're crying. It doesn't suit you," said Inziri.

Her years as Emperor had taught her that clarity, even if unkind, served her well. Taïri looked up. She had been working to gild her nails after their lovemaking was done and they had slept, but the thin sheet metal tore and flaked under her hands. 

"I can't… I can't. I can't do it, can the time just never come? Can't you rule until we fall to dust? I've dreamt of it, of lifting the blade for you, and my hands would not obey me." She leaned, and ran her hand over Inziri's inner arm that still bore a scar from the blast. She left tiny flakes of gold against Inziri's dark skin. 

"You know the time must come, no matter how you beg. There will be," Inziri said and pulled her arm away, and her throat felt tight around the words that spelled her doom, "another instance where I will need to borrow Itij's power to come to a conclusion. I know that you asked me to come on this journey because you wanted to run if there was any feasible living north of the sea, but there is not," she said. "Not unless I would have used more power than permitted to me. Not unless I would have meant to rob our people of their strength as she lives in you. I did not, only because I knew you would only blame yourself, and dying so far from home… I do not want that. I want to know that the Lament is sung for us and a better woman than you are becomes Zirij, and a better woman than I am becomes Emperor. And I want to solve what happened. I must see through what made us what we are, even if it scares me to give myself up. I am not ready."

"So you _are_ afraid." 

"Of course I am afraid. I have always been afraid. If I were not - I could have died that day, if you had let me." She leaned toward Taïri, and without asking caught her lips in a desperate kiss, drawing blood before she pulled away. 

"Then let's run after all."

~*~

They cast anchor at Itij's timber harbour in the pine forest north of the city. The sea had been rough, and their vessel needed repairs. But instead of the journey back to the capital, Taïri and Inziri ran deep into the pine forest, even knowing one of the Faceless would follow now that they had fallen from grace.

They halted, panting, in a clearing. Inziri brushed aside the curtain of red threads that hid her face, and shed the long cloak of red silk that only hampered her. "Taïri," Inziri said, gesturing. "Make it a fire. It may slow her down." 

It took only a nod from Taïri. She was strong in her power. Light flowed from under her skin, and the blood-red fabric became a wall of flames that licked at the trees and shimmered with heat. Beyond the fire, they could see the armed guard stop and hesitate, and clutch her rifle. Inziri thought what it must feel like to be hit by a bullet from one of them, and pulled on Taïri's hand as they ran on, in the middle of the flames, which were of their own making and did not hurt them, even though they devastated the trees and the land around them, and the ground became boulders and hot ash, and the air was heavy with smoke and pine sap.

Still the guard followed. For the Faceless, too, were chosen by the capacity of Itij in dreams that would prove them to be true through a questioning, and when they needed to be, they were indomitable. Nothing was visible of her skin or her face. It was forbidden for them to show their faces to keep their lives untouched as they led them outside the Palace and to vanish all old ties and alliances they might have had with Zirij or Emperor. Inziri could not help feel that something about the woman's relentless stride was familiar, but she had no time to wonder as she ran. Her lungs burned. Taïri's hand clawed into hers.

Fear flared in her. The smell of smoke, the darkness - so much like the blast then. Inziri forced herself to keep running, although she felt that any next step must pitch her forward into the ash. 

Finally, Taïri's feet failed her first, and the flames guttered, and she fell against an unburnt tree while the fire around them vanished. Inziri knelt by her, resting their foreheads together, beads of sweat mingling with tears as they stung her eyes. 

Out of the smoke, as though stepping out of the blast and the confusion then, Taïri's mother came, the black fabric over her face burned away, and her eyes bright and angry. 

"Mije," Inziri said, turning from Taïri, and sudden clarity came to even without Itij slipping all the pieces into place. "It was you. You lit the blast." 

"I asked you then not to go - but girls, silly girls that you were… and now look at where we are. Look at the summons that I received, the only reason that let me evade your exile, and so we are all caught. Over ten years I served you, waiting for a chance. Over ten years I watched you fail, Inziri, for all your hatred. This ends now, and I may even live. I should thank you, for giving me a reason." 

Inziri remembered - the hands closing across Taïri's slender throat, the knife under her pillow. 

She remembered how she had faltered both times, and lifted her eyes to Mije, now fearless.

"You will fail and falter as I have failed and faltered, for the love that stayed my hand will stay yours." Inziri said with a clarity like sunlight, but whether it came from Itij or her own heart, she could not say. 

Inziri stepped in front of Taïri, who was crying wordlessly, and half-turned for a smile that she hoped reassured the woman she loved. In the east, dawn was rising in a riot of reds through the smoke. "See, you won't have to. She will do just fine. And if it is to protect you, I'll gladly die for you." 

"No - _Mimj_ ," Taïri managed, pleading and pulling herself upright, but although Inziri could see her hands shake, Mije lifted her gun, and fired. 

The shot rang deafening over the empty forest. 

Taïri thrust her hand forward in a gesture of rejection, but she had spent too much of her power to stop the projectile, or turn it back onto their attacker.

The bullet grazed over Inziri's cheek, and she held herself upright by pure force of will to endure the feeling of fire and blood across her face, and watched as the piece of lead drove deep into the bole of the tree next to Taïri's head. 

"Run," Mije said, in sudden defeat. Through the smoke and across the divide between them, Inziri she thought she could see Mije's face twist into a mess of tears and anger. "One way or another, the order you serve ends this morning. Run, or I will shoot you both."

Inziri reached for and grasped Taïri's hand. 

They ran.


End file.
